


And the Unwanted Pregnancy Makes . . .

by angstbot



Series: Swapped [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, discussion of coercive sterilization, discussion of magic!cock, discussion of reproductive trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6328765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstbot/pseuds/angstbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SwanQueen have an accidental magic pregnancy. The Swapped threequel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As with the first two, this is a story about bodies and identity—what happens when you think you know your body or your partner’s and then it’s not what you’re expecting. It references the magic!cock from Something Extra, but doesn’t directly use it since I’m not doing that anymore. It’s also an opportunity to have a go at the idea that Regina’s infertility needs to be “fixed.”

The first time Regina threw up, Emma didn’t think anything of it. Or, rather, she _did_ think of it, and felt horribly guilty for giving her entire family food poisoning by cooking the night before.

But the next time it happened, Emma hadn’t been anywhere near the kitchen. And the next. And Regina clearly didn’t have the stomach flu, because it was only in the morning and she didn’t have any other symptoms, and there was something about that, but the savior couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

It wasn’t until she was at the store because Regina just _had_ to have pickles, “Right now, Ms. Swan,” and decided to grab some tampons because it was getting to be that time that it hit her. When was the last time- Oh fuck.

**

“Um, Regina?” she began uncertainly as the queen wolfed down the pickles like she was starving.

Regina finished chewing before answering, of course, but didn’t seem very pleased at having to stop. “Yes, dear?”

“So, you know how you’ve been sick in the mornings, and having weird cravings? Um-” Emma gathered her courage. “When was the last time you had your period?”

“I don’t know!” the older woman snapped, her pickle-induced joy gone. Mood swings.

“I think it’s been a while.” Emma took a long, slow breath. “Is-” This was crazy. “Is there a chance you’re pregnant?”

“That’s not possible,” Regina snapped.

“I’m not- I don't- I don’t think you cheated or anything!” Emma sputtered.

“That’s. Not. Possible,” Regina growled.

“But it was magic?” Emma was genuinely confused.

“What was?”

“The dick-ies,” she amended as Henry popped his head into the kitchen, then rambled on, “Dickies pants work clothes thingies.”

“Moms?” Henry said uncertainly from the doorway. “Everything okay?”

Emma cleared her throat. “Yeah, kid.”

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I heard angry talking.”

“We’re just having a conversation, dear,” Regina assured him, then turned a murderous glare back on the blonde once he left.

“The penis I accidentally conjured!” Emma hissed in a whisper. “I know it didn’t have- you know- but it was _magic_. And I-” she gestured vaguely “ _in_ you.”

“I am going to say this again very slowly, Ms. Swan,” Regina said, low and dangerous. “It is not possible that I am pregnant.”

At this point, Emma was feeling disgruntled at the queen’s flat rejection of the obvious explanation for Regina’s behavior, and demanded, “Why the hell not?”

“My mother-” Regina paused.

A chill went through Emma. “What did she do?”

“No, I-” Regina took a deep breath. “I took a potion. I did not want to live through what my mother would do if I birthed an heir to your grandfather’s throne,” she finished in a voice totally devoid of tone.  

“Oh. _Oh_.” Emma swallowed hard. “So you-”

“I made that impossible. Forever.”

“Oh.” She was torn between relief that Regina was not in fact pregnant and disappointment.

**

Emma let it go. If Regina said her body physically couldn’t become pregnant, then there must be some other explanation. Except that the cravings and mood swings continued. So did the nausea, made worse by Regina’s suddenly hypersensitive nose—and just Emma’s luck, she seemingly particularly keenly attuned to any hint of odor from the sheriff’s boots or underarms. And when Regina forbade her from touching suddenly too-sensitive breasts during sex, she knew she needed to try to talk to her about it again, because there were just too many symptoms to be a coincidence. But for now-

“Guess I’d better put my mouth somewhere else then, huh?” she hummed, grinning up at Regina, who gave her a small exasperated-affectionate smile.  

The queen’s eyes fluttered shut and her smile widened when Emma began scraping her teeth down her belly as she moved to settle between her legs. As soon as she was in position, Emma immediately and eagerly pressed her mouth where Regina was wet and ready from earlier teasing. It pulled an “Nnnh” from the queen’s throat and made her back arch up off of the bed a bit.  

When Regina’s back met the bed again, her eyes locked onto Emma. The blonde joyously rubbed her face against the older woman’s pussy, reveling in the feel of her, needing to get her tongue all over Regina and Regina’s wetness all over her. The queen moaned an approving, “Yesss” at her extravagance and gripped her hair to keep her close.

Switching to steady strokes, Emma caressed Regina’s clit with a soft, flat tongue, but couldn’t quite bring herself to go slowly. Soon she brought two fingers up to push inside and began fucking her deep and steady, and Regina gave a low moan and rolled her hips up into Emma’s mouth. The savior hummed happily and began swirling her tongue and curling her fingers. God, this felt good.

As if in response, Regina breathed, “I love how you touch me.”

“And I love touching you,” Emma assured her, reverently, as she pulled out and pressed inside with three fingers now. As Regina’s hips started to work harder, faster, Emma was sucking her clit now, fucking her intently, filling and stretching her.

Then Regina was coming, moaning, arching and shuddering and clenching around Emma’s fingers.

Emma watched her adoringly, stroking her through it. When she finally stopped twitching Emma kissed her cunt worshipfully and withdrew.

Then she steeled herself and crawled up to lay beside the queen, propped up on one elbow and looking down. “So, babe- Regina, you still haven’t-” She took a deep breath. “Bled. And you’re having all these unusual symptoms, and like, it all screams pregnancy.”

The queen’s jaw tightened. “Not this again.”

“Look, maybe the potion only protected you against _natural_ pregnancy. That cock was supernatural.” She gave a half-shrug. “Maybe it, like, overpowered it.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you think so highly of your magical semen, dear.”

“Or, like, maybe true love fixed you?” Emma ventured uncertainly.

The response was immediate and explosive. “Excuse me? Fixed me? As if I was broken?”

“No, um-”

But Regina was working up a rant now, getting out of bed and dressing with angry, efficient motions. “Fixed me, like not bearing children is some sort of damage?”

“Of course not,” Emma insisted, bewildered. So much for an orgasm putting the queen in a better mood for this conversation.

“Good god, Miss Swan, I honestly cannot believe that you are trotting out tripe that women who can’t bear children are broken. As if pregnancy is all women are good for,” she spat.

“No, I- I’m sorry. You not broken. There’s nothing wrong with not having babies,” Emma murmured, low and calming, as she rose from the bed and walked over to Regina. She didn’t touch her. “That’s not what I meant at all. You just- you did a thing that made your reproductive system not function in the usual way, but maybe magic made it function in that way again. Okay?” Regina’s posture softened just a little, indicating an opening. “Will you take a pregnancy test? Please?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna oscillate between funny and heavy. you’ve been warned.

Regina agreed to take a test, tight and brittle, and Emma made it to the store and back in record time before she could change her mind.

When she came back in the front door, the sheriff was surprised to see the light on in the study. She stopped cold in the doorway at the sight of Regina sitting at the desk in her fluffy bathrobe, feet bare but glasses on as she peered at the computer. God, she was beautiful, and she was maybe pregnant with Emma’s baby, and that was confusing as hell but also maybe wonderful?

Shaking herself, Emma cleared her throat and held up the bag. “Ready?”

**

The instant the test result appeared, Regina insisted, “It must be a false positive.”

“I mean, I guess it’s possible,” Emma conceded, “but-”

“It said on the Internet that happens at times.” Regina sounded certain in only the way that people who want a particular result can.

“I can’t believe you did research on this in the fifteen minutes I was gone,” the sheriff chuckled. A beat. “No, actually, I can. So do you want to go see Dr. Whale tomorrow to be sure, or-”

“No!” At Emma’s raised eyebrow, the queen sighed, “I’ll take another test.”

Emma took a deep breath and counted to ten, mastering her surge of irritation because of how important this was, and then set off for the store again. But she made damn sure to buy two each of every brand of pregnancy test available in Storybrooke’s surprisingly well-stocked pharmacy, staring Sneezy down in case he had any ideas about making a comment. Returning home, the savior then handed them over one at a time as Regina demanded another and another and another.

Each and every one was positive.

When the frenzy was over, Emma knelt at Regina’s feet where she sat on the closed toilet lid and took the last test gently from her trembling hands with a grip that was not much more steady.

“I don’t- I didn’t want this,” the queen breathed after what felt like an endless silence.

“I know. I-” she paused, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry.” It had been her magical mishap that got them into this mess.   

“It feels like a violation.” It was almost inaudible.

Emma’s heart clenched in her chest. Regina felt violated. She had violated Regina. The room spun.

“Oh no, my love,” Regina assured her, cupping her face. “Not you.”

“It’s fine,” Emma insisted, unable to meet her eyes. The last thing she should do right now was make this about her. “It would be fair if you did feel like I-” she swallowed hard, “violated you. It’s my fault. I’m the one who conjured the stupid thing. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s more like- my own body betraying me,” the queen tried to explain.

“I mean, if you wanted to terminate-” Emma began, uncertain, still looking at the wall behind Regina rather than at her.

“Do _you_ want that?”

“No, but it’s your body,” Emma said, almost a whisper.

Regina was silent for so long that Emma had to look at her directly, and found her looking more overwhelmed than she had ever seen her. “Hey, you don’t have to decide now,” she soothed, squeezing one of the older woman’s hands. “It’s late. And this,” she gestured vaguely, “will all be here in the morning.” She gave a small smile. “Come to bed and let me hold you,” she coaxed, knowing that Regina needed it but would never ask.

**

“You’re definitely pregnant,” Dr. Whale confirmed as he swaggered back into the examination room the next day. Then his voice turned slimy as he looked the queen up and down. “You know, if you were in the market for a baby daddy, you should have come to see me.”

“Not on your life, Whale,” Regina snarled.

He shrugged. “Your loss. So, who _is_ the lucky fella who knocked up the Evil Queen?”

“Um, that would be me,” Emma muttered, too distracted by the freakish feeling to take exception with how disgusting he was being.

“Wait, so you, and- and _you_ were-” and he made an “O” with one hand but the fingers of the other hand never made it all the way to penetrate it before Regina had a fireball conjured.

As his eyes bugged out, there was a startled “Oh!” from Nova. She’d been so quiet in the corner Emma had forgotten she was there. “That’s why I’m here,” the fairy realized aloud.

“Yes. Now that it’s certain that I’m pregnant, what can you tell us about the-” she paused, searching for the word, “phallus?”

“Whoa, Emma has a dick?” Whale’s eyes dropped to the crotch of her jeans. “That’s hot! Can I see? I could totally go a little bi for you, Sheriff Swan-”

“What- Having a- wouldn’t make me not a wom-”Emma sputtered in horror for a moment, and then didn’t feel even a little bad hurling him bodily out of the examination room.

She did her best impression of cool and composed when she turned back to the fairy and the queen. “I’m sorry, Nova, go on.”

“I’m not sure I can tell you very much,” she began apologetically. “I am familiar with using this kind of magic for recreational intimacy, not procreation.” She fell silent for a moment, thinking. “But it should be simpler with you two,” she offered brightly. “I mean, Regina you have a womb. Your body is made for this.” Emma winced at her choice of words.  

“Made for?” the queen’s tone was sharp.

Nova couldn’t possibly know what her mistake had been, but she hurried to alter her phrasing anyway. “Just that you can accommodate it safely. Anatomically.”

“Unlike you and Leroy,” Emma realized suddenly.

“Yes. For some reason he simply refuses to carry my child,” Nova huffed, disgruntled. “Dwarves don’t even _have_ gender.”

Emma couldn’t contain her laugh and tried to play it off as a cough. Given Nova’s suspicious look she wasn’t sure it had been successful.

“So this magic would be able to alter a body to make it able to carry a child?” Regina asked, trying to bring them back around to the point.

“Yes, though it requires a profound connection between the parties.” Her tone turned slightly bitter and sarcastic. “Not that that’s a problem for _you_ two,” she said, then trailed off muttering about unnaturally spectacular sex.


	3. Chapter 3

Regina was silent all the way home, and Emma, feeling the explosive rage beneath the surface of her outward calm, didn’t push it. Her own head was spinning, and the queen’s must be too.

The sheriff half-expected Regina to say something once they were safely in the privacy of 108 Mifflin St., but she still didn’t. Instead, the older woman began wandering aimlessly from room to room, straightening things. Emma followed her, not knowing what else to do, not wanting to leave her alone right now.

Just when the savior considered poking her a little to get it over with, because the silence was suffocating and because this conversation was far better had before Henry got home, Regina exclaimed, “I was fine before!”

“Yes,” Emma murmured soothingly, her eyes taking in the tension in Regina’s back as she gripped the edge of the mantel.

“ _We_ were fine before!” Regina turned to her, insistent.

“Absolutely,” she freely agreed, needing them both to know that was sure even if nothing else was right now.

“We don’t need another child!” the queen complained.

“Right.”

“I don’t-” Regina stopped, thinking, for a long, long moment. “I don’t hate the idea,” she murmured at last, her eyes widening as they met Emma’s.

Emma blinked. “What?”

“I definitely hate feeling like I don’t control my body,” Regina clarified, “but not the idea of having a child. With you.”

“Me either,” the sheriff agreed, swallowing hard. “In fact, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a brief fantasy of holding you from behind and feeling your pregnant belly.”

“And you did have our last child,” Regina conceded.

Emma just nodded, not willing to tell her, not able to tell her yet.

They were silent for another long moment, and Regina began pacing again.

“Damn it, I made a decision about my body! My decision! My body!” The queen squeezed her hands so tightly Emma was sure her nails were cutting into her palms, but then the tension went out of her and she slumped, almost defeated, as she murmured, “And now my body is doing something- else. I didn’t want this.”

“At least you got to make that decision.” It was out of Emma’s mouth before she could stop herself.

Regina looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

Fuck. Fuck. She didn’t want to be having this conversation. Not now. Not when Regina was- and it was Emma’s-

“Emma?” the queen prodded gently.

“In prison, they-” It was hard to push the words past the lump in her throat. “They had me sign something while I was still on the giving birth meds. An agreement to be sterilized.”

“Oh god.” Regina reached out to her, and Emma shrank away involuntarily.

It was all spilling out now. “So it’s just the universe being an asshole that I would probably be fucking _thrilled_ to discover my body was fixed. I mean, I know _you_ didn’t need or want fixing, but maybe I did. And instead you’re pregnant.”

“Emma, I’m sorry, I-”

“It is what it is. I guess even magic can’t fix what they did to me.” She sank down onto a chair, sighing, feeling wrung out.

“Emma,” Regina began again.

“Regina, I love you, and I’ll be right back to supporting whatever decision you want to make about your body in a little while. But right now I just need some space, okay?”

Regina nodded, but she also leaned down and kissed Emma’s temple as she walked past.

**

When Emma emerged from the shower some time later, her head feeling much clearer and her body much less tense after a hard run, she found Regina in the kitchen making dinner. Pressing against the queen’s back, she brushed her hair over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and it felt almost normal.

“Hey,” she murmured.

“Hey,” Regina greeted back in that teasing way she had when echoing Emma’s phrasing.

“So, um, regardless of my stuff- really, _really_ , whatever you want to do I support you,” she said in a rush as she wrapped her arms around Regina from behind, pointedly staying on her ribs and far from embryo-holding parts. “It’s absolutely your body and your choice, okay?”

“Okay,” the queen agreed.

“And you don’t have to decide right now,” she added quickly, not wanting to pressure.

She could feel Regina taking a deep breath before she answered, “And if I have?”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Emma’s mouth went so dry that she could hardly ask, “And?”

“And I think I want to have our baby, Emma Swan,” Regina answered.

Emma pulled back and turned the queen around by her hips, needing to see her face to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

**

“And you’re sure it’s not because you feel guilty about my body?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure it’s not because I said you ending the pregnancy isn’t what I wanted?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure it’s not because I can’t give us another child?”

“Damn it, Emma, yes! The answers to all of these questions are the exactly same as the last three times you asked.” Regina’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You are pushing awfully hard. Are you sure you don’t want me to make a different decision?”

“No!” Emma insisted. “Not at all. I just want to be sure.”

“I’m sure,” Regina said, slowly, definitively. “And is this what you want?”

“Yes,” the blonde answered quickly, looking at the floor.

“Emma?” the queen asked, coaxing her chin up with gentle fingers.

She looked Regina directly in the eyes. “Yes.”

“Alright then. It’s decided. We are having this baby, and we are going to tell our son in about,” she glanced at the oven timer, “five minutes. Go have him wash up.”

Family dinners in the Swan-Mills household were usually an easy stream of conversation, but tonight both Emma and Regina felt too awkward to make more than stilted comments.

“Okay, moms,” Henry said after about ten minutes of this. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Emma insisted, startled—though she shouldn’t have been. Given who his parents were, this kid was bound to be too perceptive for their own good.

“Yeah, like that’s believable,” he scoffed. “What is it? Did Grandma Snow try to do your hair again, Mom?” he turned to Regina.

“No.”

“Did you and Grandpa David try to put together more furniture and have a fight?” he interrogated Emma.

 “No.”

“Did Grandpa Gold threaten to kill one of us?”

“No, and stop guessing,” Regina said with a hint of sharpness. “Yes, you’re right that there’s something important happening.” She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant”

“What? How? I have the birds and the bees conversation burned into my brain twice thanks to the year in New York, and it did not include” he pointed his finger from one of them to the other.

“Well, um,” Emma said, trying to find a way to broach the subject, “there was a magical accident and I had, you know, what are usually considered- boy parts.”

“Oh my god, Ma, you could have just left it at magical accident!” He clutched his ears as if that would make him not have heard it. “I’m so glad I’m already in therapy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna be it for a little while since i'm traveling next week, but there are still 2-3 chapters to come!


	4. Chapter 4

“Oh hey Dad, guess what?” came falling out of Emma’s mouth, her excitement at their family growing getting the better of her as soon as the thought crossed her mind. At Regina’s sharp look, she winced. This was _not_ the way to have this conversation, not least since David had _just_ told them when he greeted them at the door that her mom was putting Neal down for the night and would probably be upstairs for a while.

“Well, what?” he said, looking between them, his face halfway between confusion and concern as the silence lengthened.

What Emma wouldn’t give to be able to read Regina’s mind right now, but then again, there was really no way around it now that she’d blurted it out. The savior took a deep breath. “Uh, you’re going to be a grandfather. Again. We’re having a baby. Regina’s pregnant.”

“So you're the father?” David asked.

“Mother,” Emma corrected.

“But _you're_ the mother,” he said, turning to Regina with a furrowed brow.

“We both are,” Regina affirmed.

“But how-” David began.

“Don't ask,” Henry cut him off.

“Don’t ask what?” Snow inquired as she came down the stairs.

“How Ma got Mom pregnant,” Henry explained, shuddering.

Snow blinked, startled, for a second while she processed what she’d just heard, and then her entire face lit up. “You’re-” she began, looking between them. “And _you’re_ -” she emphasized, looking at Regina, “But I thought you couldn’t-”

“Magic,” Regina confirmed noncommittally, and Emma stepped closer to her, resting a supportive hand on the small of her back.

“Well it doesn’t matter how!” Snow said, throwing her arms around them both in an almost-suffocating hug. “It’s wonderful!” As she pulled back, she started talking a mile a minute. “I was just going to start getting rid of my maternity clothes and Neal’s littlest things and look, now I can give them to you, Regina, and the cravings can be a little much but you’ll love knowing you’re growing life inside you, and oh, we have to get a nursery set up at your house, and I thought Emma would be the one, since-”

That hit Emma hard in the gut. Of course Snow would want a biological grandbaby. But Emma couldn’t provide another, and that wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have to have with her, and-

Regina slid an arm around her back, and the roaring in her ears receded. “I love you,” the queen murmured, then kissed her cheek. Turning back to Snow with a fond-exasperated look, she gripped her elbow and led her away from Emma to have this conversation, but the savior heard, “If you think I’m going to wear your fashion atrocities-” as they went.

**

The rest of the evening went smoothly. At least, no one wanted to kill anyone else, and that was kind of where the bar had to be set for their family. Emma was glad for it to be over, though; she wasn’t sure how Regina wasn’t strangling her mother for her constant flow of baby-preparation talk, because _she_ sure wanted to. But somehow Regina and Snow had come to really understand each other after all these years, and she didn’t question it because it made family time that much smoother.

She was still turning it over in her mind as she followed Regina into their bedroom that night, and so she was caught completely off guard when Regina pressed up against her and kissed her insistently.

“I’m going to need you to fuck me,” the queen purred as they broke apart, and Emma was only too glad to cooperate, pulling her close and kissing her right back and walking her toward the bed.

At the last moment, rather than pushing the queen onto the bed she swooped her up and laid her down gently, then pressed against her side and began kissing her again, slow and sweet, cupping her face in one hand and running the other over her body reverently.

Regina made a little dissatisfied sound, digging her fingertips in and trying to pull Emma on top, but the blonde kept her touch slow and methodical as she began to unbutton Regina’s shirt.

“What are you doing?” Regina demanded, breaking the kiss.

Emma pulled away as if burned. “I thought you wanted to have sex?”

“I do, but you’re acting like-” the queen stopped, then tilted her head suspiciously. “Like I’m fragile.”

“What? No. I mean, I’m _aware_ that, you know-” the savior sputtered.

“I must have missed the part where being pregnant made my bones turn to glass,” Regina snarled.

“No, I-”

“I want to be _fucked_ , Emma,” the queen growled, leveraging with her hips to roll them over, then pinning Emma down. “And if you’re too timid,” she hissed, beginning to rock against the savior’s thigh, “I’ll just have to fuck myself, on you.” She kissed Emma hard then, and all the blonde could do was moan into her mouth.

When Regina released her so that she could sit up and strip off her shirt and bra, Emma helped with eager hands, cupping her breasts as soon as they were bare.

“Harder,” the queen demanded. Emma obediently pinched her nipples. “Mm,” Regina hummed. “Better. But you’re still staying down there,” she insisted, her hips continuing to work against Emma’s thigh.

Emma didn’t complain, just kept her hands on the queen’s breasts, squeezing, pinching, pulling, digging her nails in a little, letting Regina’s responses guide her as she usually would rather than second-guessing herself. The queen rewarded the savior’s attention by leaning down and lavishing open-mouthed kisses on her neck, interspersed with the edge of teeth and with moaning hotly into her ear the way she loved.

Emma felt Regina’s hands pulling at her shirt, then heard a snarl of frustration a split second before cool air told her the older woman had impatiently stripped them both by magic. In the next second she felt Regina hot and wet against her thigh and moaned deeply. The queen took the opportunity to lick into her mouth with a demanding tongue, and this was unbelievably good, moving together, hips and hands and mouths.

When Regina sat up again, Emma couldn’t help making a little whine of loss.

“Eager,” the queen chuckled down at her.

“You bet your fine ass.”

Regina had a thoughtful expression for a moment, and then shook her head. “No, not tonight.”

“Fuck, babe.”

“Such a filthy mouth,” Regina teased.

Emma blinked. “I’m- sorry?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ride it,” the queen continued with a mock-pout.

Emma’s eyes rolled back in her head so far that Regina was almost completely astride her face before she got them back down again, only for her gaze to immediately lock onto the older woman’s pussy hovering above her face. Fuck, she was glistening and gorgeous and Emma needed to taste her.

Then the queen was in her mouth, and Emma wrapped her arms around Regina’s thighs as she ran her tongue over every bit of her she could reach, as if to re-memorize the exquisitely familiar planes and curves of her cunt all over again.

Soon the older woman settled into a steady, but intent grind against her mouth, and Emma met her motion with equally focused swipes of her tongue.

“There’s my good girl,” Regina groaned, gripping her by the hair in return.

Emma just hummed against slick flesh, looking up at her queen adoringly as her tongue flicked up and down, swiped side-to-side, and made swirls. The loss of range of motion in this position was more than made up for by the hotness of how demanding Regina was being. The older woman rode her face faster now, and the savior’s mouth obligingly sped up in time with her flexing hips.

Before long, Regina was making the “Mmnh, mmnh, mmnh” sound she made when she was close to orgasm, gripping Emma’s head with both hands as she fucked her face. The blonde stayed with her even as her motion became increasingly erratic, her tongue as relentless as the queen’s hips.

“Suck me. Hard. Now,” Regina gasped out, and Emma nearly came at the demand but managed to do as she was told, pulling a moan from deep in the queen’s chest.

 Then Regina was coming, her body snapping into an electric arc, and she was so fucking beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm looking at more like 7 chapters than 5 at this point. i'm sure you're sad.


	5. Chapter 5

Regina slid down Emma’s body to lie on top of her again with a feline grace that was really inhuman when she’d just had an orgasm, and deeply unfair given how goofy-clumsy Emma herself often got after she came.

But then Regina began licking her own wetness from Emma’s face with precise strokes of her tongue at the same time that her fingers found one of the blonde’s nipples and started pinching and pulling, and she couldn’t even begin to remember what she’d been disgruntled about.

“Fuck,” she groaned.

Regina gave an evil little chuckle. “Well there’s an idea,” she said, then began biting Emma’s neck again.

“Mmh,” Emma hummed, smiling. “We haven’t used the strap on in a while.”

“Oh, there’s more than one way for me to fuck you, dear,” the queen breathed hotly in her ear.

“Um, didn’t-” It was so hard to concentrate. “Didn’t we decide that was identity tourism?”

“Not the penis either,” Regina said dryly. “Try again.”

“You know I can’t think when you’re doing that. I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me. Please,” she whined.

“I’m going to ride you, Sheriff Swan. My cunt on your cunt,” she enunciated.

All Emma could do was moan at that.

“I love it when you moan for me,” the queen murmured against her skin, then kissed her again so hard and intense and deep that she was almost fucking her mouth with her tongue.

After several long moments, Regina pushed herself up off of Emma’s body so that she could get into position. Kneeling between Emma’s thighs, she swiped her fingers against Emma’s pussy to make sure she was wet enough to attempt this, and the blonde’s entire body jerked.

“Sensitive,” the older woman remarked.

“So ready for you,” Emma confessed.

Regina’s expression went almost feral with desire at that. She moved Emma’s legs where she wanted them with efficient motions, then settled her hips into place. They both gasped at the contact of slickness on slickness. Then the queen began to ride her, strong thighs flexing as she moved, so slowly at first that it was more a kiss of one pussy on the other than fucking, so hot and wet and incredibly intimate, even more so for how Regina’s eyes bored into Emma’s as she moved.

Hearing Regina’s breathing gradually get more ragged was almost as good as the sensation of her against Emma’s clit, and when she sped up the pleasure seared through the savior. Having found the perfect angle, the queen settled into a steady grind and Emma reached up to grab her hip as much to feel her ass flexing deliciously as to keep her _right there_.

“I love the way you fuck me,” she groaned.

“And I love fucking you,” Regina gasped back, her hips working even faster now.

Emma could feel the pleasure building low in her belly, every touch of Regina’s clit to hers electric, the sounds of their gasps and moans ecstatic, the sight of Regina’s breasts bouncing slightly with her motion delicious and drawing Emma’s free hand up to pinch her nipples again.  

Soon Regina really was fucking Emma’s pussy with her own, almost grunting with the intensity, and god the savior loved how this woman _wanted_. She was getting so close, but she wanted to hold back, to come together, the way they had so many times before.

Hovering on the edge soon became delirious pleasure almost edging into pain, but then the queen was commanding, “Come with me, Emma. Now.” And she did, the sensation rocketing through her white-hot.

This time Regina was less graceful in her post-orgasm state, doing no more than straightening out their bodies before collapsing mostly on top of Emma in a sweaty heap. The savior hummed happily and slid her arms around Regina as the older woman’s head tucked into the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

They lay there for long moments while their breathing slowed, and it would have been peaceful except that one thought chased itself around and around Emma’s head.

The savior broke the silence finally. “I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard. “About before. I don’t think you’re fragile.”

“Then why-” Regina began, then trailed off.

“I just- that baby-”

“ _Our_ baby,” Regina corrected.

“Your pregnancy is so precious to me,” Emma tried again.

“Emma,” Regina pushed herself up onto one elbow and caught the savior’s chin in gentle fingers to look her in the eyes. “It’s like you’re avoiding calling this our baby.” A flicker of pain crossed her face. “Do you not want to expand our family? I have been trying to keep my excitement contained because it seemed like you weren’t-”

“No, no-no-no. I do want to,” Emma broke in, almost frantic to correct that mistaken impression. “I do so much. I am excited. I am. But I- just-” She couldn’t stop it. It was all going to come out now. “You’re the qualified mom, and I’m just the birth mom.” She swallowed hard, feeling her chin quivering. “But I can’t birth this one, so what do I even contribute? I’m, like, reproductively useless.”

“Emma, no. This is _our_ baby. Yours and mine.” She huffed a little chuckle. “That there’s a child growing inside me means you were sort of _spectacularly_ reproductively successful.”

“But at the prison they-”

“In the conventional way, yes,” Regina said, quiet and sincere. “But this,” and she gestured between them, “is anything but conventional. Aren’t you the one who reminded me that true love is magic? Magic found a way. Our baby. Yours and mine,” she repeated.

Emma’s heart felt like it stopped, and she just looked at Regina in awe for a long moment, then felt a huge smile slide across her face as she breathed again.

“We’re having a baby!” It was like realizing it for the first time.

Regina smiled. “Yes.”

“Ours! Yours and mine!”

“Yes,” the queen chuckled as she kissed the tip of Emma’s nose.

“That’s so wonderful!”

“Yes!” The queen agreed emphatically.

Their eyes met and the absurdity was suddenly too much, and they burst out laughing. Soon they were giggling and kissing and snuggling and rolling around in bed together, joyous-joyous-joyous.


	6. Chapter 6

_Three months later_

“It’s really too bad about your storm anchor, love,” Hook said, entirely too close to Emma’s ear as he sidled up behind her in Granny’s.

“God, what have I told you about personal space?” Emma demanded, pushing him back with a none-too-gentle elbow as she turned to glare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Regina,” the pirate clarified. “I’ve just seen her and she’s carrying quite a bit of surplus freight these days, isn’t she? Whereas I,” and he gestured to himself with a flourish, “am as devilishly handsome as ever.”

Emma’s temper sparked. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Her body is her business. It’s not your place to scrutinize or judge or comment or think you know what’s going on or- god, that shit gives people eating disorders-”

“A bit touchy, aren’t we?” Hook broke in. “I understand. It can be hard when one’s woman loses her charms.”

“No- fucking- she’s _pregnant_ , you asshole,” Emma sputtered, then snapped her mouth shut. That was none of Hook’s goddamn business either, especially if he was up to his old tricks. She’d really thought he was getting over this.

The last thing she expected was for the pirate to wince. “My condolences.”

Emma blinked at him. “What?”

“It seems the queen has been unfaithful. Ungrateful wench,” he sneered. “I would certainly never step out on you.”

“The baby is mine!” the savior shouted. People were turning to stare now, but she was too angry to care. What the fuck was his problem?

Hook stared at her in shock for only a split second before a slimy smile oozed its way across his face. He looked her up and down and quite pointedly at her crotch. “I would have paid to see that.”

Emma saw red.

**

The good thing about your dad being the co-sheriff was that he’d give you an ice pack for your bruised hand when you punched a guy out in the diner, Emma mused. The bad thing about having _Prince Charming_ be your dad and the co-sheriff was that he actually would put you in the lockup for assault when you punched a guy out in the diner, no matter how much the asshole deserved it.

On second thought, she decided as she heard the clicking of heels—because Regina was still going to be a fashion plate as far into the pregnancy as she possibly could, thank you very much—it was a good thing that she was behind bars. It would be much harder for Regina to kill her from in here, though of course not impossible. Emma wondered if she should start marshalling her arguments about Regina not depriving their children of one of their parents.

But as the queen came into view, Emma could see that her mouth twitched just the slightest bit with humor. If she hadn’t known Regina as well as she did, it would have been too subtle to notice, but it was there, and it was everything.

Regina cleared her throat. “I hear that you have been arrested for punching the pirate,” she began noncommittally.

“Yes,” Emma answered easily, feeling much calmer now.

“And how did that happen?”

Emma thought fast. The last thing she needed was to send Regina after Hook. _She’d_ reacted badly enough. “He commented about women’s bodies in a way I didn’t like.”

“What else is new?” Regina asked, dropping the formalities.

“One woman in particular.”

“Emma,” Regina admonished, “he’s disgusting, but he’s been hitting on you for years-”

“The mother of my children,” Emma corrected quietly.

“About-” Regina began, gesturing toward her belly.

Emma nodded.

“And did you really lay him out?” Regina asked, a hint of glee in her tone.

Emma grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

**

Regina had bailed her out, of course, and not given her any shit at all for getting herself arrested. But Emma almost would have preferred yelling or lectures about irresponsibility to the queen pretending that everything was fine when the blonde could _feel_ the unease beneath the surface.

Emma didn’t push it. She just tried to be on her best behavior, not even making her usual half-serious grumbles about washing dishes after dinner. But as they got ready for bed that night, she felt like she needed to get it out in the open.

“You’ve been restless all night,” she murmured as she sat on the bed beside where Regina was reading. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Regina insisted, entirely too quickly, eyes locked to the page.

“You know you can’t lie to me,” the savior prodded gently. “And you don’t need to. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” She rested her hand on the book to guide it out from between them, but Regina tensed to hold it in place and she didn’t insist.

“I’m fine,” the queen insisted, brittle.

“I screwed up, okay?” Emma blurted, getting up and beginning to pace. “I know. I do. I shouldn’t have punched Hook no matter what he said. I’ll try to do better.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Regina said quietly.

“Then what’s wrong with you?”

“So you admit it.” Regina got one of her sneering Mayor Mills smiles as she set the book aside. “There _is_ something wrong with me. And Hook noticed. I’m- distended.” Her tone was full of disgust.

That stopped Emma cold. “What?”

“My body is a totally unreasonable shape,” she said, gesturing toward her curved belly.

“Your body is a perfectly natural and beautiful shape,” Emma corrected as she returned to the bed. “And aren’t you the one who kisses my stretch marks from Henry?”

Regina looked entirely unconvinced. “At least my breasts are larger,” she sighed, looking down at them.

“They were perfect before, and they’re perfect now,” Emma insisted. Regina scoffed. “Let me show you,” she pleaded. Their eyes caught and held for a long moment, but eventually Regina gave a tiny nod.  

Emma picked up the queen’s hand where it rested on the bedspread and kissed her fingertips and knuckles and the palm of her hand. Next were the inside of her wrist, the inside of her elbow, the small, firm curve of bicep. She kissed up to Regina’s shoulder, across her collar bone, up her neck, and along her jaw. Then she cupped her face and just looked into her eyes for a slow, adoring moment. She pressed their foreheads together for a slow, adoring moment. She rubbed noses with the queen for a slow, adoring moment. Then she kissed her on the mouth slow and sweet.

Before long the kiss deepened, and Regina’s breath caught, and the familiar passion between them sparked to life. Emma moved to straddle the queen’s lap and ran adoring hands over her face, neck, shoulders, sides, belly, loving all of her in equal measure, and Regina hummed into the kiss. Soon Emma was pulling back just enough to slip Regina’s nightgown off and coax her to lay on her back.

“You too,” Regina insisted. Emma blinked, confused, and she clarified, “Take your clothes off. I want to feel you.”

Emma smiled and did as she was told, then pressed every possible bit of her skin against Regina’s side as she continued her slow, methodical worship of the queen’s body. She kissed the already-quickened pulse in Regina’s neck, then her throat, the little hollow between her collarbones. She lavished kisses and nuzzles on the warm plane of her chest, then the soft curves of her breasts.

Opening her mouth to breathe hotly on a nipple, she looked up to meet Regina’s eyes again, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Gentle,” the queen breathed, and so Emma was, kissing, stroking with her tongue, sucking so softly, using only her mouth, back and forth from one to the other. Her hands were busy anyway, caressing Regina’s belly, hips, thighs, slow, methodical, sweet. This was so very good, this connection, coaxing sighs and gasps and quiet moans from Regina’s throat, and Emma wanted it to go on forever.

Except that there was something they both wanted even more, and so eventually Emma continued her mouth’s downward course, over the curve of Regina’s belly, then detouring to kiss each hip and along the seam where her leg met her body, as she settled between the queen’s legs. Then she pressed soft, closed-mouthed kisses to Regina’s pussy for long, adoring moments.

Only then did her tongue come out, making slow, soft flat strokes over every glistening inch of Regina, loving the feel of her, the taste that was so uniquely her. Time seemed to dilate, or the world seemed to contract, or something, because being here with her queen was everything. Her touches were reverent tonight, awe at getting to have this intimacy with this wonderful woman bubbling up in her as she reached up and twined their fingers. But her mouth’s motion was also sure, working Regina up slowly but steadily, her strokes deft with familiarity, slow pressure at this moment but a flicker of her tongue at that one.

By the time that Regina’s other hand slid down and tangled in her hair and her hips began to cant, Emma’s mouth and chin were gloriously slick with her and she was groaning with pleasure at touching her as her tongue stroked the queen’s clit in a firm, steady rhythm. Then came the “Mmnh, mmnh, mmnh” grunt-groan, music to Emma’s ears as she slid her lips around Regina’s clit and sucked, punctuated with swirls of her tongue.

Then Regina’s body was tensing into orgasm, her nails almost painful against Emma’s scalp as she gripped her hard, and it was a perfect moment.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Xena reference for you oldtimers. 
> 
> yeah we're looking at either 7 or 8 chapters at this point.


	7. Chapter 7

_One month later_

“Come on, you two, this will be fun!” Snow almost squeaked with excitement. “I bookmarked a list of fun party games on my phone. Let’s see-” she trailed off as she began to scroll.

Emma caught Regina’s eye and took a deep breath. She reminded herself that she should be glad her mom was throwing them a baby shower and that there was free baby stuff in it for them if she could tough it out through the planning.

“Eww, that is _gross_.”

Emma turned to Snow, feeling guilty for zoning out instead of helping. “What?”

“Oh, a game where you melt chocolate in a diaper.”

They all shuddered.

“Bobbing for nipples?” Snow said incredulously as she scrolled down. “What kind of list _is_ this?”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Regina mused, quirking a naughty eyebrow at Emma, who glared and mouthed _Don’t talk about sex in front of my mom!_ Regina’s desire was on overdrive lately, and in general Emma was all for it, but this was the most awkward time possible.

Fortunately, Snow wasn’t listening. “Oh, I’ll have to look some other time,” she sighed, putting down the phone. “Anyway, Granny is going to cater, and you two have agreed to host, so then all that’s left is sending out the invitations. So is the baby a boy or a girl?"

"Shouldn't we let them tell us that?" Emma shot back automatically, already tired of fielding this question from everyone for the last several weeks and not looking forward to having to keep on until Regina gave birth.

Snow just blinked at her, confused. “I just want to know if the invitations should be pink or blue?”

“We don’t want our child to be limited by having highly gendered clothes and toys from birth, so we’re not telling,” Regina explained kindly.

“But-” Snow began again.

“We’re not telling you,” Emma repeated, firmly but she hoped calmly. “Primary colors. Green. Something. Figure it out.”

**

_Two weeks later_

“Thank you,” Emma said with sincerity that she hoped sounded genuine as she took the precisely wrapped present from Archie. As much as this whole baby shower ordeal was exhausting and she was already having to keep a smile plastered on her face by sheer will only half an hour in, people showing up to support them meant a lot.

“I’m so happy for the two of you,” the therapist said. “Though this unexpected magical pregnancy situation must be quite stressful. The two of you might want to think about coming in to talk to me about how this is going to affect your relationship going forward.”

Emma’s mouth opened, shut, opened, but no sound came out.

“It will have a great impact on your sex life, for example,” he suggested, and Emma just choked.

“Emma, sweetie, can you come help me?” Snow’s voice reached her, and she would have never thought she’d be glad to have baby shower setup work to do.

“Sorrygottagomymomneedsme,” she said in a rush, then walked off so fast that she completely forgot to set the box down on the gift table.

“There you are,” Snow said as she reached her. “Can you hang this up for me?” She held out a huge butcher-paper drawing of a baby.

“What is this?” Emma asked, juggling the present a bit so that she could take it.

“Pin the pacifier on the baby, of course!”

Emma just shut her mouth and nodded.

**

“Emma,” she heard Regina call, and the little hitch in her voice had the savior weaving through the hors d'oeuvre-eating guests to the queen’s side in no time flat.

“Is everything okay?”

Regina looked up, her eyes glimmering with the tiniest hint of tears. “Your mother decided to take some perfectly good diapers and have the guests write on them,” she said, but Emma could tell her heart wasn’t really in the mockery. “I mean, look at this: _Your first kid has his head screwed on straight, so you’ll be fine. Love, Granny_. Honestly. Or _You have so much love to give, and this child will be so lucky to have you as their mother – Snow_. What is that? She is so intolerably sappy.” Her lower lip trembled a little, and Emma could tell she was profoundly touched to have this community supporting them expanding their family and deflecting with tart commentary.

The rawness of old wounds and a lifetime of isolation just under the surface called out for care, but Emma knew the queen would hate attention being drawn to her emotional state, so she just slid an arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “Love you,” she murmured quietly as Regina leaned into her touch.

**

Emma was dutifully helping Granny set up “guess the baby food” when Regina slid into her personal space a little while later. The queen could no longer press against her back the way she used to, but she could still make her presence immediately felt.

“Emma,” she murmured, and _that_ was not a tone she usually used in polite company. “I’m having a pregnancy craving.”

“Okay,” Emma agreed readily. “Whatever it is I’ll go get it.”

“I want to taste you,” the queen whispered, and all the moisture in Emma’s mouth suddenly needed to be elsewhere. “Very soon.” Then she was gone again, leaving Emma hopelessly turned on. Regina was a menace these days. That was _definitely_ worse than that muttered comment about nipples in front of Snow.

**

Emma was chatting amicably with Nova when Archie joined them. “There you are. I was hoping we could continue our conversation from earlier,” he said, kind and sincere but implacable in his therapist way.

“Oh, uh, were we in the middle?” Emma prevaricated.

“Oh yes,” he said eagerly, and just Emma’s luck that hadn’t worked. “We were discussing the ways having a young child can impact intimacy in your relationship with Regina.”

Nova made a not-quite-polite noise. “That would be catastrophic the way these two go at it.”

“They do seem very devoted,” the therapist agreed. “That’s why it’s so important to have good sexual communication with your partner after childbirth.”

“Do you have _any_ idea what happens to a woman downstairs after she gives birth?” Granny scoffed, stepping into the group. “Sexual communication, my foot! _Men_.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean having sexual relations,” the man clarified, and oh god for the floor to swallow Emma up right now. “Precisely that they would not be able to do so and that they should be open with each other about desires.”

“If those two were any more open about their desires-” Nova began.

“Well this looks like an interesting conversation!” Snow said brightly. Oh no. Oh no-no-no.

“It’s fascinating,” Archie affirmed. “Post-childbirth sexuality in long-term intimate relationships is so crucial, but so little discussed.”

“Oh yes, Charming and I-”

“Emma?” Regina called.

“Be right there!” Emma said loudly, trying to drown out anything else her mother might have said and almost sprinting away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Ch 8 or 9 will be the end of the plot and then there'll be a Very Smutty Epilogue(TM)


	8. Chapter 8

Emma found Regina in the first floor half-bathroom.

“Hey, thanks for saving me from Archie. He keeps trying to shrink me, and then everybody was talking about post-pregnancy sex and that was awk-” Emma began.

“Lock the door,” Regina commanded, quietly but clearly expecting to be obeyed.

Emma blinked. “What’s going on?”

“I told you earlier that I have a pregnancy craving,” Regina purred, pressing close as she gripped Emma’s hair with one hand and reached around her to lock the door with the other. “Do you think you can help me out?”

Oh god, this was impossibly hot, and Emma’s body was all for it, but her brain had other ideas. “Yes, but- I- um-”

“I want to taste you, Emma,” the queen insisted, then kissed her intently, running her free hand over the savior’s body.

When Regina’s mouth moved down onto Emma’s jaw and neck, the blonde made one last feeble protest. “I want to. God, I want to, but half of Storybrooke is out there!”

“They have party games,” Regina murmured, palming and squeezing one of the savior’s breasts now. “And frankly, the only advantage of people treating pregnancy like an illness is that no one will question if I need you for a while.” Her hand slid down to cup Emma between her legs. “And I _do_ need you.”

“God,” Emma moaned. “Yes, my queen. But we really can’t take very long.”

The older woman pulled back slightly and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Since when does it take me very long to make you come?”

“Okay, yeah.” Emma smiled sheepishly, knowing that was very true. “But how? You can’t exactly get on your knees.”

Regina gave a sexy chuckle. “Why do you think it took me half an hour to make this happen? I think I’ve figured out the logistics.” She pulled Emma with her as she backed across the small room and then sat on the closed toilet lid. “Thank god I know this bathroom is spotless,” she mused, then looked up at Emma hungrily. “You. My mouth. Now.”

Emma had to shuck out of her jeans, panties, and boots to rest her foot on the toilet tank as she was directed, and needed to lean against the wall to keep her balance, but when Regina moaned into her pussy at first contact it was completely worth the awkward positioning. Emma had been wet since the queen’s first confession of desire, but Regina still worked her up methodically, even if her eagerness didn’t quite let her go slowly—making indirect touches at first, tracing every line and curve of her cunt.

“Fuck, you feel _so_ good,” Emma groaned as quietly as she could.

Regina pulled away only long enough to reply, “And you _taste_ so good.” It was so fucking hot the way her lips and chin glistened with Emma’s wetness, and her eagerness to return her mouth to its task, and her hums and moans and, fuck, this was a _queen_ absolutely ravenous for Emma’s pussy and that was almost enough to make her come all by itself.

Soon Emma’s hips were twitching hard, wanting to buck but afraid to lose contact with Regina’s nimble tongue—or worse, lose her balance. The older woman was stroking her directly now, soft but firm and curling on her clit at the top of every motion, and damn she was so good at eating pussy. When Regina quirked an amused eyebrow up at her, Emma realized she’d said it aloud, but she couldn’t spare the brainpower to be embarrassed because in the next moment the queen slid her lips around her clit and sucked at the same time that she pushed her fingers inside, fucking and curling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the blonde hissed. She was getting so close.

At that moment the door handle rattled, and Regina demanded, “Come. Now,” her low voice vibrating against slick flesh.

And Emma did.

Her supporting knee buckled a bit and she threw her arm out blindly, afraid of falling on Regina. Her hand found the towel rack, and it held for a second until she ripped it out of the wall and dropped it with a clatter. In the next moment she felt Regina catching her with magic, keeping her upright as she shuddered through the orgasm.

There was a knock on the door.

“Just a minute,” Regina called, re-clothing Emma with another flick of her wrist. “Can you stand?” she hissed.

The savior nodded, and Regina released her previous spell. Her legs were shaky, but they held her, which was good because they needed to get out of here. She held out her hands to pull Regina up, and the queen pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth as she stood.

Feeling wetness against her skin, Emma hissed, “Regina, your-” but the queen had crossed the room and opened the door before she could finish the sentence, so she just followed.

Of course the person waiting to use the room was Nova, whose expression told Emma she did not miss Regina wiping off her mouth in the dim hallway and knew exactly why.

**

“Emma, Regina, where have you been?” Snow asked, slightly disapproving, as they rejoined the party. “I had to delay the gift opening because no one could find you.”

“We just needed a minute,” Regina said, sliding her arm around Emma’s waist as she gave her the sappiest look imaginable. Emma smiled back, knowing the queen was being over the top for her mother’s benefit, but also that the love behind it was genuine.

“Oh, how sweet! I love how having another child together is bringing you two even closer together,” Snow gushed.

“If we were any closer we’d be inside each other,” Regina agreed cheerily, smiling one of her wolfish Mayor Mills smiles.

Emma choked on air, but her mother didn’t notice anything amiss, just handed her a cup of punch from the refreshment table.

“I was worried that you’d miss out on the snacks,” Snow continued.

“I do love a good _snack_ ,” Regina hummed.


	9. Chapter 9

_One month later_

“Hey ma, do you need any help?” Henry asked, peeking his head in to the nursery where Emma was painting the walls a soft shade of green.

Emma blinked in surprise, but agreed, “Yeah, sure, kid. But go change into your housecleaning clothes, will you? Your mom will kill me if you get paint on good stuff.”

She stared after him for a long moment after he left. Their son had not expressed any interest in preparing for or even hearing about his impending sibling. Henry wasn’t complaining or anything—Regina had raised him too well for that—but he had tried to avoid the whole situation as much as he possibly could, and after a few too many airy assurances of “Yeah, ma, great, I’m gonna go do my homework,” she’d stopped trying to bring it up.

He was old enough now that Emma felt like she had to respect his choice not to engage. Neither of his mothers was much for sharing feelings either, after all. It also didn’t help that she felt guilty for probably having traumatized him with TMI when they told him about Regina’s pregnancy. She had just hoped that his regular sessions with Archie were doing their job and that he’d open up eventually. Maybe now this was it.

“Okay now what?” Henry asked as he returned to the room.

“Uhhhhh,” she drawled, looking around and trying to think fast. She really should have thought about this while he was gone instead of suspecting his motives. “Well, I already painted around the baseboards over there, so you can do the roller part? And go easy on the paint. It only takes a little, ok?”

“Sounds great,” he agreed readily.

After some initial supervision of his technique, they painted in silence for a long while. Emma could feel something beneath the surface, but it wasn’t quite tension.

“So, I was talking to Archie,” Henry began at last.

“Yeah?” Emma asked, studiously casual and looking at him only out of the corner of her eye.

“Yeah,” he said to the wall he was painting. “He said I maybe shouldn’t take the new baby personally.”

“Yeah? Were you?”

“Yeah. It, um, felt like you guys wanted to replace me with a baby you got to raise _together_ ,” Henry muttered, barely audible.

Emma felt a pang, intensified by the remembrance of her parents having literally said that to her about Neal. “Kid, we love you more than anything.”

“Not more than each other,” he protested, “and this baby is a symbol of your relationship.” The therapy-speak was more obnoxious than cute.

“Yes, more than each other. I get that you’re not a parent, but when you are, many, _many_ years from now, you’ll understand. Your kid comes first.” He looked unconvinced. “Really, Henry. Your mom and I both know, and agree, that if it ever comes down to it we save you, not each other.” Such conversations were a fact of life in a magical town with fairytale villains showing up at random intervals.

He looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in a long time. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But now I have to share that with the baby,” he almost whined, though he had the decency to look embarrassed at trying to take something away from an infant.

“It’s not like there’s a limited quantity of love in a family, or a person, Henry,” she chided. “When we came back from New York, did you love me less when you remembered your mom?”

“No, of course not,” he insisted.

“Well?” she prodded.

She saw realization dawn on his face. “Oh.”

“And it’s only going to grow because you have one more person in your life to love, and to love you,” she said slowly.

“That sounds nice,” he conceded, looking down and scuffing his bare foot on the drop cloth.

“Yeah, I think it’s pretty great.”

A beat, and then he put down the roller and crossed the room to hug her fiercely.

“I love you, ma,” he murmured, still short enough at the moment for his mouth to be a little muffled by her shoulder.

“I love you too, Henry. I’m glad we talked,” she added as she pulled away slightly to look him in the eye.

“Don’t rub it in,” he half-grunted, stepping out of the embrace entirely and shuffling out of the room. Apparently he was done painting. She stood looking after him for a long moment, and then Regina peered in. Her smile was knowing.

“How long have you been there?” the savior asked.

“Long enough,” Regina answered as she came in. 

“And?”

“Not bad,” she conceded, kissing Emma’s cheek.

“Not bad!” Emma was mildly offended. “I can _totally_ do the sensitive chats.”

“Indeed you can, my love,” the queen chuckled affectionately at the savior’s discomfiture as she looked around the room to survey the progress on the painting. Emma took the opportunity to press against Regina’s back and wrap her arms around her. She rested a hand on her belly.

Regina melted into her and they stood there for a long, long moment, calm, still, happy. Then a little thump came, the baby kicking exactly where Emma’s hand rested.

“See, she agrees!” Emma teased.

**

_Six weeks later_

“Emma, it’s time.”

“Mmkay,” the savior hummed, her body moving to rise from the bed before her eyes had even opened. She had always had the skill of going from sleep to alertness in an instant. It was indispensable in a foster home, in prison, as a bail bondsperson. But months of rousing to respond to late-night cravings had further honed her ability to process and respond to Regina’s voice from full sleep.

“Get dressed, get the bag, get mom to come over, get Regina in the car, get to the hospital,” she muttered to herself as she carried out the steps.

Snow arrived to take care of Henry in good time, and they were on their way to the hospital soon after.

**

It was, as first births often are, long. Over the course of the next twelve hours Emma kissed Regina’s sweaty forehead and brought her ice. She had her hand crushed in the queen’s shockingly strong grip and her ancestors (though not descendants) cursed for multiple generations for having caused Regina to be in this situation. She had talked the older woman out of just poofing the baby out. She had breathed with Regina, held her breath through contractions, and finally had hear breath taken away by their child’s first hearty cry.

Then their entire family gathered in the recovery room to greet its newest member.

Emma announced, “Her name is Rhys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘nother Xena reference. 
> 
> here endeth the plot. a classic angstbot Very Smutty Epilogue(TM) to follow.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Very Smutty Epilogue™

_One year later_

Emma didn’t notice when the new-baby fog cleared. By the time she realized one day that it was gone, it had been a little while since Rhys had started sleeping through the night—and they had finally gotten some sleep again—and since she’d begun eating solid food—so that their lives weren’t dominated by the rhythms of breastfeeding.

She was laying on the bed, idly watching Regina finish her nighttime moisturizing ritual through the open bathroom door, when desire hit her hard in the chest.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” she murmured involuntarily.

“Thank you, dear,” Regina chuckled, continuing her task.

“And I really want you,” Emma continued uncertainly. Regina turned to look at her, startled. “We don’t have to,” the savior hastened to add. She didn’t want to be pushy.

“It’s not unwelcome. Just-” and she paused, “unfamiliar.” Her skincare completed, the queen came back into the bedroom and joined Emma in bed.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a little rusty myself.” Emma smiled at her adoringly, then shrugged. “Well, think about it. Maybe this weekend or something.”

Regina kissed her soundly.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Emma murmured as the older woman pulled back.

“Your restraint. I can tell how much you want me,” Regina hummed, and their mouths met again as she slid over to press fully against Emma. The kiss deepened, and their hands began to wander, slow, adoring, but also desirous.

“Are you sure?” Emma asked as Regina rolled on top of her and began to kiss down her jaw and neck. “We just got our sleep unhijacked and you just got your body unhijacked, and-”

“Emma,” Regina cut her off, “shut up and touch me.”

“Yes, my queen,” the savior readily agreed.

It was almost a process of rediscovery. Emma knew Regina’s body intimately—cuddled with her, saw her take her clothes off, showered with her, touched her in a hundred tiny ways every day—but sex was both familiar and foreign at this point, producing both anxiety and anticipation. Gradually, she relaxed into the moment, reveling in warm hands and adoring kisses on newly-revealed skin as they undressed each other slowly.

When Regina settled back on top of her, gloriously skin-to-skin and thighs interlaced, they both sighed into the contact. The queen resumed their kisses, slow and deep but passionate. Before long, Regina’s wandering hand found Emma’s breast, cupping lightly at first but gradually beginning to squeeze and stroke her thumb across her eager nipple.

God, she had missed this, and when Regina slid down and closed her hot mouth around Emma’s other nipple all she could do was moan and thread her fingers through silky dark hair to keep her _right there_. The queen looked up at her adoringly as she flicked and sucked and bit one nipple and the other, back and forth and soon Emma’s hips were twitching a little in search of contact.

Regina quirked a playful eyebrow at her, but her eyes rolled back in her head a bit when she cupped between Emma’s thighs and they both discovered that she was startlingly wet.

“So eager,” the queen said, but her voice was a little too breathy with desire for the teasing to be believable.

“Missed you,” Emma answered simply, the statement sliding into a moan at the end as Regina began stroking slow circles against her.

Gradually, the queen’s caresses grew faster, and more insistent, and before long Emma’s hips were rocking to meet her. But she needed her closer, cupping Regina’s cheek and coaxing her upward as she murmured, “Come kiss me.”

Regina smiled and then obligingly pressed fully on top of her again. As she resumed their kisses, she slid her fingers inside, and Emma moaned into her mouth.

The queen broke the kiss to ask, “Is that alright?”

“Fuck- Yes- Fuck me,” Emma groaned, wrapping her legs around Regina’s waist to get her closer.

And Regina did, slow and deep at first, her palm grinding against the savior’s clit. Bit by bit, she sped up, her fingers thrusting harder and soon curling on the out-stroke the way Emma loved so much. They were pressed so close, breathing into each other’s mouths between almost-desperate kisses.

Their skin began to stick as they got a bit sweaty. Then it began to slide as they got a bit sweatier. Emma was gripping, clutching, kissing as Regina was kissing, pushing, fucking, a perfect feedback loop that spiraled up and up.

It was so good, and Emma wanted it to last forever, this perfect moment on the edge of orgasm, but when Regina added a third finger she was done for, coming so hard she saw white.

As soon as Emma’s shudders subsided, she was rolling Regina onto her back and kissing down her body reverently, but with clear purpose.

“Mm, hello dear,” the queen hummed as Emma settled between her thighs.

“Hi,” Emma replied, all awe and wonder as her eyes feasted on Regina’s naked body. She spent a few more moments lavishing kisses over the queen’s skin, hip and thigh and cunt, hot, open-mouthed, desirous.

But then she needed to taste her too much. She began taking long, slow licks, tracing every bit of her, and god, this was like coming home. Regina was soft, and slick, and so, so hot against her tongue, lips, chin. Emma tried to go slow, tried to worship the queen the way she deserved, but fuck, she had missed this, and so her touch intensified involuntarily, her tongue soon making firm, steady strokes on Regina’s clit.

Before long, she was groaning-hungry-needy, but Regina didn’t seem to mind, breathy herself and her hips working to meet Emma’s touches. When the older woman reached down and tangled her fingers in her hair, wrist resting against her cheek, Emma gave her a nuzzle and an adoring look, but then she needed her in her mouth again. She was swirling her tongue on Regina’s clit now, muscle memory of precisely how to touch her meeting careful attention to the queen’s every twitch, gasp, and sigh.

It was so good, so right, and as she slid her lips around Regina’s clit to suck she also slid her fingers in, pulling a full-on moan from the queen’s throat. Emma began to suck, interspersed with swirls of her tongue, as she fingered Regina slow and deep in counterpoint, loving the feeling of being inside her again.

Again they found a rhythm, Emma’s touches growing more intense as Regina hips moved faster and faster until she was really fucking her and the queen was really fucking her face. Emma sucked and fucked, swirled her tongue and curled her fingers, giving Regina everything, reveling in the taste and feel of her. The older woman began to tense and curl up on herself as she neared orgasm, and Emma stayed with her.

Then Regina was coming, her body arching, and god, she was beautiful.

Emma pressed more reverent kisses to Regina’s pussy, hips, belly, breasts as she crawled back up and lay beside her, watching her adoringly.

A few moments later, the baby monitor crackled to life with a little plaintive wail. Emma sighed deeply, but moved immediately to throw on some clothes.

“I can go,” Regina slurred, orgasm-drunk.

“You can’t even pick your head up off the pillow, babe,” the savior chuckled. “I had time to recover.” She leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Rhys needed a diaper change, but went back to sleep readily enough afterwards, and Emma found herself standing beside the crib, entranced by the sight of this should-have-been-impossible child, marveling in the perfection of tiny fingers and ears and elbows.

The soft sound of bare feet on hardwood startled her out of her reverie, and she turned to see Regina coming in.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” she whispered in explanation.

“It’s okay,” the queen replied, sweeping Emma’s hair over one shoulder so that she could kiss the back of her neck and then wrapping her arms around and pressing against her back.

“We did good, huh?” Emma asked as they watched the sleeping baby.

“Yes, we did,” Regina affirmed. They stood there for a long, long moment before walking, hand in hand, back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with this, my SQ magic baby fic that comes out swinging on gender politics and tropes comes to an end. thanks to all for reading along the way.


End file.
